TRON: Heir to the Legacy
by JenovatheCalamity
Summary: Sam Flynn has begun to make plans for a future with Quorra.  It was their sunrise-he can see only light ahead.  But when a disaster strikes that neither of them could have imagined, will Sam be able to salvage the future?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own TRON. I bet you knew that, though.

Other disclaimer: This story is based only on the two movies.

It begins at the same moment that Tron: Legacy ends, with Sam and Quorra driving down the street on Sam's motorcycle, with Quorra gazing out at the sunrise.

Chapter 1

Quorra's arms tightened around Sam's chest as they sped toward the outskirts of town. Over the rushing wind, he could just hear her yelling, "Sam! Sam! It's…" She trialed off, having no words to describe her first view of the sun. Sam grinned, gratified that she was impressed. This was Quorra's first day free of the grid, and Sam's last few hours free of the responsibility of running a multi-billion dollar corporation. He had decided to take this time and drive her out to the country, to show her the trees and the sky, and all the other things she had never gotten to see. Later this morning, in addition to starting work at Encom, Sam knew that he would have to find a way to prove Quorra's existence. Getting her a social security number, inventing a birth certificate, and probably finding her a job would only just the beginning of the tasks they would have to do in order to truly bring her to life for the rest of the world. Later, hard work would begin for both of them, but Sam was determined that this morning would be perfect. He had planned out everything they would do. This morning, there would be no responsibilities, no problems.

But there were some things that even Sam, with his far above average intelligence, couldn't plan for.

It happened too fast for Sam to quite process. A moment before, everything had been fine. Quorra had been gazing in wonder out toward the sun coming up over the mountains. Then, a moment later, Quorra's arms had begun to loosen. Instinctively, before he had even had time to truly realize that something was wrong, he began to slow his bike down. This was fortunate, because, a moment later, Quorra let go all together.

"Quorra!" Sam shouted, trying to reach back and grab her, but she was already sliding back off the motorcycle. He heard the thump of her hitting the ground, and brought his bike to a screeching halt. He leapt off the bike without even taking the time to prop it up on its kickstand. As he ran toward Quorra, who lay unmoving on the ground ahead of him, he heard the bike fall to the ground, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was that he reach her.

"Quorra!" he yelled again as he dropped onto his hands and knees beside her. "Quorra. Quorra!" He yelled, panic rising in him. Then, his mind caught up with his emotions, and he registered the fact that she was still breathing. He let out a massive sigh of relief, and fell back into a sitting position on the pavement. He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down, reminding himself that he couldn't help her if he was panicking. After a moment, when his heart rate had slowed somewhat, he pulled out his cell phone, and dialed 911. He told the operator that his friend had fallen off a motorcycle, and where to find them.

As he sat there beside Quorra, he moved over to her, and looked closely at her. What had happened? He couldn't see any obvious injuries. She didn't seem to be bleeding anywhere, save for a few small nicks and cuts that she had gotten when she hit the ground. It was a good thing that he had slowed down when he had! But why had she let go in the first place?

He leaned closer, and gently laid a hand on her cheek. Almost at once, he pulled it back, staring at her in horror. Her skin had felt cold and clammy, and the hand he had touched her with was covered in sweat. As he looked at her, he saw that she seemed much paler than usual. There were shadows under her eyes that hadn't been there half-an-hour ago when she had climbed on the bike behind him. He stared, unable to believe his eyes. She stirred under his gaze, and half opened her eyes. She looked up at him, and said in a frighteningly weak voice, "Sam? What's happening? Help me…" Then, she collapsed back onto the ground, unconscious.

"Quorra!" he shouted, panic once again filling him. He yelled her name again and again, begging her to wake up. He didn't even hear the sirens as the ambulance pulled up beside him. He didn't notice anything into two paramedics hurried over, carrying a stretcher. A third paramedic gently pulled him out of the way as the other two carried Quorra into the ambulance. The paramedic then guided Sam into the ambulance, and sat down across from him, checking Quorra's vitals.

"What happened?" he asked Sam.

"I think she's sick," Sam said, not really having heard the man's question.

"I think you're right, but what happened?"

"She's sick," Sam said, hardly able to believe his own words.

The paramedic sighed slightly. "Son, tell me the truth. Were you two doing any kind of drugs?"

"She can't be sick!" Sam exclaimed.

The paramedic finally seemed to realize that he wasn't going to get anything helpful out of Sam, and simply said, "Don't worry, son. We'll be at the hospital in just a few minutes. The doctors there will be able to figure out what's wrong, and they'll fix her right up. It'll be alright."

Sam wasn't listening. She couldn't be sick. She just couldn't be. It was impossible. His father had said so. There was no room for illness in the Isos' genetic makeup. What was happening to her?

Just as the paramedic had promised, they reached the hospital quickly. Quorra was rushed into the emergency room, while Sam was left to wait in agony in the waiting room. After what seemed like an eternity, the doctor called him into the hall. She was a tall, middle aged woman with a serious demeanor, but she was looking at him with compassion.

"First," she began, "You will be happy to know that she was not harmed in the fall from the motorcycle at all, besides a few minor bruises and scrapes."

"So what is wrong with her?" Sam demanded. "Is she sick? With what? Can you cure it?"

The doctor held up a hand to stem the tide of questions. "Calm down, Mr…"

"Flynn. Sam Flynn."

"Calm down, Mr. Flynn. Your—friend—isn't sick."

Sam stared at her. "If she's not sick, why did Quorra pass out in the middle of the road?"

The doctor smiled. "Quorra, did you say her name was? Well, Mr. Flynn, Ms. Quorra is almost four months pregnant."

Sam's jaw dropped. The doctor went on, "For some reason, the baby seems to be drawing more nutrients than usual from the mother. This caused a nutrient deficiency in her, which lead to her collapse. We aren't sure why the baby is taking so many nutrients, but once we learn the cause of the problem, hopefully we will be able to correct it. In the mean time, we are giving her extra nutrients to compensate."

Sam was still stuck on her first statement. "Four months?" He gasped. The doctor nodded. "That's impossible!" He exclaimed. "She wasn't pregnant at all when we left the house this morning!"

The doctor smiled in an understanding way. "No, dear, I'm afraid _that's _impossible. If she's four months pregnant now, she must have been four months pregnant then. Now, are there any health concerns from either of you that we should know about? Particularly if they could be related to her current condition?"

"It isn't mine," Sam said absently. How could she be pregnant at all, let alone four months? Surely she would have noticed something before now.

The doctor was talking again, still in her understanding tone, but this time, with a touch of irritation. "Now, I know that this has come as a shock to you, but you need to understand that if you have been having sex, even with protection, there's a chance that…"

Sam interrupted her. "You don't understand. We just met a day ago! We haven't had any sex!" Without realizing it, Sam had started shouting. Her patronizing tone had grated his already worn nerves. He heard a gasp from behind him. He turned round to see a scandalized looking woman, holding the hand of her child, whose other hand was in a cast. He turned back toward the doctor, embarrassed. She too was looking somewhat shocked. Sam thought that she was probably wondering why two people who were clearly not related and who had just met were living together.

Sam sighed, closing his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself. "I'm sorry," he said, "I'm sorry. I was just so worried about her. Poor Quorra…" He looked back up at the doctor. "Can I see her now?"

The doctor still looked skeptical, but it seemed she decided to have mercy on him. "Alright," she said. "She isn't conscious yet, but she should wake up soon. This way." The doctor began walking down the hall, and Sam followed. She lead him into Quorra's room, and then left him, pulling the door shut behind her. She called as she left, "If you need anything, just ring for the nurse." Sam ignored her, so she pulled the door shut.

Sam looked at Quorra. She still looked pale, but she did look healthier. How had this happened? Sam wondered as he looked at her. She was clearly showing through the hospital gown, and yet neither of them had noticed anything that morning, or before she had left the grid. Could someone even get pregnant on the grid? Sam wouldn't have thought so, but obviously they could. He wondered if his dad had encountered this in his time on the grid. Suddenly, Sam sat up. That was it! His dad! How could he have forgotten? He had downloaded all of his father's research and journals onto his phone from the computer in the arcade. If his father _had_ witnessed this, or even if he had theorized about it (and, Sam remembered, his dad's theories often turned out to be right), Sam had access to it on his phone. He pulled his cell out, and clicked, "Search all files".

"Ok, dad," he said to no one in particular, "What have you got for me?"

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><p>Well, there's the first chapter for you! Most of the chapters will be pretty short, but that will hopefully mean that I will be able to get them up quickly. Please read and review!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Sam sighed in irritation. He had searched "pregnancy", "baby", and even, "mysterious illness" and had found nothing. Finally, though he really hadn't wanted to do it, he clicked on the search box and typed, "sex". As the phone searched, Sam muttered to himself, "I really hope I'm not about to find out more than I wanted to know about you, old man."

After a moment, the search results came up. One match. Sam looked at the file location. It was in his father's private journals, rather than his research. That wasn't a good sign. Sam nervously reached out a finger, and tapped on the result before he could change his mind. The first thing he looked at was the title of the entry. It read: _Program Sexuality—Theories. _Sam gave a small sigh of relief. He still felt some trepidation, but he felt that it was probably safe to read on. Looking at the date, Sam saw that his father had written this entry about a year after his first trip onto the grid (though, how much time passed on the grid, Sam wasn't sure). He scrolled down to the entry itself, and began to read.

_An interesting development today. Tron has been pestering me for months for an upgrade. I told him that I would get to it as soon as I had the time, but he wouldn't let it go. He just kept bringing it up over and over again. Now, I certainly wasn't against getting Tron an upgrade. But I didn't really see why it was so urgent. Tron's a pretty advanced program already, so an upgrade would only make a barely noticeable difference in his performance. The only difference it would really make was that it would alter his program's appearance enough so that Tron would appear in a new outfit on the grid. As far as I was concerned, a snazzy new look for Tron was pretty low on my priority list._

_But, like I said, he's been bringing it up every chance he got, almost since the first time I came back after we defeated the MCP. Finally, today, I'd had enough. He had asked how the new upgrade was going about five times before lunch, and I snapped. I demanded right there on the sidewalk that he tell me why it was so dad-gum important that I stop all my research and program repair to make him a useless upgrade. He didn't want to tell me, but I regret to say that I played the user card, telling him that I was the boss and he _had_ to tell me. Finally, he told me that he wanted the new upgrade because his current outfit was programmed to change color under certain stimuli, making it extremely obvious when he was sexually aroused. Poor guy. I can imagine how awful that must be for someone as reserved and straight-laced as Tron. (I regret how childishly I behaved now; I'll apologize tomorrow when I give him the new upgrade.) _

_This whole thing brought up some interesting questions, though. I had always assumed that, even though they have the appearance of gender, that programs don't actually have sexuality. I guess I was wrong. I had just assumed that they didn't, because I had never seen any of them express any kind of romantic feeling toward one another (which makes sense, now that I think about it, if their clothes change color to let the whole world know that they're turned on). It's got me wondering—can programs reproduce? I mean, in the same way we users do. I guess that sex would be just like any other exchange of data. And I suppose it's conceivable that that data could combine in a unique way. But I've never heard of a new program spontaneously coming to life without a user. No, I think on the grid us users are the only ones who can bring life to a program. Off the grid though…_

_I wonder what would happen if a female program with data from a male program was able to leave the grid. Would his data and hers suddenly combine, even if she had obtained the data long before? I wonder how quickly the pregnancy would come to term. Probably a good deal faster than usual, particularly if it was obtained long before._

_It's an interesting question. It's interesting to theorize about, anyway. I don't think I'll be doing much practical research into the subject. Even if the technology existed to bring programs to the outside world with me (which is another thing I should start researching into), at this point there is really only one program I would trust enough to take with me, and I really don't think Tron is going to be giving birth any time soon. Pity this theory will never be tested._

Sam sighed, closing his dad's journal, and putting his phone in his pocket. "Well, dad, looks like you get to have someone test your theories after all."

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><p><strong>Well, here it is, chapter 2. I know it's extremely short: later chapters will be longer. Please review!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Sam sat quietly, watching Quorra as she slept. He knew that he didn't have any right to feel this way, but he couldn't help it. The same question ran itself through his mind over and over again. _Who? Who? Who? _Just when he felt like he was about to lose his mind, he saw Quorra's eyes begin to open. She looked groggily around the room for a moment, then saw Sam. "What's going on?" She asked. "Where are we?"

"We're in the hospital," Sam answered her. He was trying to figure out the best way to break the news to her.

"The hospital?" Quorra asked, surprised. "I've read about it. It's a place for people who are sick or hurt. So—am I sick, or am I hurt?"

Sam was silent for a long moment. He opened and closed his mouth several times, not sure exactly how to begin. Finally, he said, "Actually, you're neither. You're—you're pregnant, Quorra."

"Pregnant," Quorra repeated, as though she was trying to remember what it meant, "I've read about that too. You mean I'm going to…" Her eyes opened to perfect orbs, and her mouth fell open. "I'm going to have a…"

"Baby, yeah," Sam finished for her.

Quorra looked even more shocked than Sam had. "But, but how? You and I haven't—and I haven't with anyone else since I got here! I swear, Sam!"

Sam sighed. "I know you haven't. You've only been here one day, and we've been together pretty much since you got here. But Quorra, what about before you left the grid?"

"What?" Quorra sounded confused, but there was also a touch of apprehension in her voice. "What does that have to do with this?"

Sam looked at her. He couldn't help the hurt he felt at the confirmation that this wasn't some bizarre miracle, that there had actually been someone. He knew it was ridiculous—he hadn't known her then, and she hadn't known him. But still, he couldn't stop himself from feeling hurt. He stood up and walked across the room. He reached the window and looked out, away from her. "My dad had this theory that, if a female left the grid after—how'd he put it—_exchanging data_ with a male, no matter how long ago it had happened, she could become pregnant as soon as she left the grid, though he didn't have to much to say about why. So, if that's true, anyone you—were with, no matter how long ago it was, could be the father."

He turned around to face her again, stealing himself for another question to which he didn't know if he really wanted an answer. He was trying to look at her, but he just couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes. Instead, he stared at her knees under the hospital blanket. "Quorra, I know that your past isn't really any of my business, and you have every right not to tell me anything about who the father is, or who it might be or whatever. But, Quorra, please, I have to know. Is there any chance—at all—that this baby is…" He took a deep breath, and went on in a voice thick with apprehension, "…related to me?"

Sam's eyes closed as he braced himself for the answer. There was silence for a long, excruciating moment. Sam could feel Quorra staring at him. Finally, she answered, "No, Sam. There is no chance of my baby being related to you. There was never anything like that between me and your father."

Sam was flooded with relief, so much so that his knees nearly gave out from under him. He staggered over to the chair beside Quorra's bed, and sank into. He looked at Quorra, meeting her eyes for the first time in minutes. "You have _no_ idea how happy I am to hear that."

She looked across at him, smiling slightly. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but you won't be getting a little brother or sister."

"That is fine by me," Sam answered, smiling back. But after a moment, his smiled faded. He had gotten the worst case scenario out of the way, but the question still remained. After a pause, he asked hesitantly, "So, was it—was he—another Iso, or…" He trailed off when he saw that the question had hurt her. Her face colored with shame, and tears began to fill her eyes. She dropped his gaze, looking down at her lap. She tried to speak, but couldn't seem to get the words out. Sam stood up hurriedly. He held out his hands in a pacifying gesture, saying, "No, no, you don't have to tell me. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. You don't have to tell me anything."

He stood there, staring at her, worried he had somehow pushed her away. She looked down at the covers of her bed. Just as Sam was becoming certain that she would never say another word to him, he heard, in a quiet voice, "There were two."

"What?" Sam asked, not sure he had heard her correctly.

Quorra looked back up at him, and said in a tortured voice, "If it really doesn't matter how long ago it was, then there were two."

"Two," repeated Sam in a toneless voice. He sat back down. He couldn't quite figure out how he felt about that. Two wasn't bad. After all, he'd had more girlfriends than that. But still, it was more than one, and a whole lot more than none at all. After bouncing back and forth between hurt and relieved, he decided to just press on to a different issue. "So how—when did you meet? Who were they?"

Quorra took a deep breath, as though preparing to take a plunge into deep water, and began.


End file.
